


what things drink provoke

by tara_stofse



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Banter, Drunken Kissing, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, No Plot/Plotless, drunken dancing, fluff and nonsense, who knew Jack Robinson could be a happy drunk?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24843916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tara_stofse/pseuds/tara_stofse
Summary: "I can't feel my nose," she told Jack confidingly. "I can always tell I'm sloshed when I can't feel my nose.”In which Jack and Phryne are drunk and ridiculous.
Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson
Comments: 21
Kudos: 99





	what things drink provoke

**

They were holding each other, swaying to the music from her gramophone – although the swaying could have been blamed on the alcohol as well. Phryne wasn’t entirely sure anymore.

"I can't feel my nose," she told Jack confidingly. "I can always tell I'm sloshed when I can't feel my nose.”

She disentangled her hand from around his neck and took one of his hands, patting her own nose with it. 

“See? You can’t… No,” she frowned, “I can’t feel it. It's one of my tells."

Jack was grinning at her broadly.

"The fact that... that…” His brow furrowed slightly as he seemed to consider the grammar of the sentence he was trying to utter, "...that you’ve already told me about your nose three times tonight m-might also be a sign."

She laughed and dropped his hand, slinging her arms around his neck again.

He placed his hand back on her hip. "What're your other tells? For knowing you’re sloshed?”

Phryne’s attention was temporarily absorbed by his face. It was entirely relaxed, with none of the usual quirks and expressions; there was only the huge, sloppy smile plastered on his mouth.

“Miss Fisher?” he prodded.

She remembered his question. "Usually my ears and my cheeks start feeling very… warm," she said.

Jack’s smile was suddenly much closer to her than it had been moments ago. She felt his breath on her burning ear before he dragged his nose along her cheekbone, nuzzling her.

"Nose, ears, cheeks. What else?” he mumbled against her cheek, his hands on her hips still swaying her to the music.

"Well," she murmured, "usually my lips feel all... tingly."

He moved his mouth over hers and kissed her hungrily. After a few blissful seconds (or minutes, she couldn’t tell) he pulled away. “Tingling yet?" 

"Mmm."

"Hm, Miss Fisher. I'm not convinced. Any other tells?"

"Have I told you about my nose yet? I can't recall." She grinned at him.

He grinned back and moved his mouth to press a kiss against the tip of her nose. "That all of them? Or should I keep investigating?”

She didn’t want him to stop just yet. She gave him a sultry look while her brain fumbled for something to say.

"Sometimes my knees feel… wobbly." It didn’t sound nearly as seductive as it had in her head.

Jack didn’t seem to notice. “Like so?

Her entire world tilted as he dipped her. She squealed and clung to the material of his shirtsleeves, instantly feeling soberer. Alarm bells went off in her head. She'd danced with enough drunken men to know they were usually _slightly_ overconfident in their own balancing capabilities.

"Jack! If you drop me, I swear - "

He was grinning at her. Instead of pulling her back up he slowly lowered her, laying her down on the parlour floor. She was about to be indignant at this when he flung himself down right next to her, flat on his back.

His shoulder shook against her own, and she realised he was giggling.

“What the hell, Jack?” She swatted him with her left hand. “It’s not funny! Do you have any idea how it feels to be dropped by some... some... drunken fool?!”

“I’m a drunken fool, now?” He asked with mock seriousness before the mirth bubbled back into his voice. “Evidence suggests that I’m not the only one present. Drunken one, I mean. N-not the fool part.” His shoulder started shaking again. “Although…”

She promptly elbowed him in his side, stopping the breathless laughter.

“You’re not a very good dance partner when you’re drunk,” she said with a pout. “Dropping me on the floor and insulting me? We’re supposed to be a waltz!”

“We can go back to being a waltz later,” he said, turning to grin at her. “I enjoy being a drunken fool with you right now.”

**


End file.
